Name: Sazeal Poltanov


Species and race: Revenant Human


Age, gender and element: 117 Male Fire


Faction: None


Appearance: A hulking...man? Coming in at a towering 6’7 and seemingly with an impressive physique to match. Not much can be seen from him appearance wise..due to the numerous bandages wrapping up his flesh. From what is exposed, mainly the eyes and his fingertips it’s obvious that he’s heavily burnt. His eyes a dulled green and his expression-at least from what’s seen by his eyebrows-is one of scrutiny. Always scanning his area and intently looking over things of his interest. Over his bandages he’s found wearing the same things. A striped blue and white tank top that he tucks into his pants. Said pants being..black jeans? Odd for this man. His shirt and pants being held tightly together by a burlap belt. Over that holds the most curious thing about this man, a very torn and seemingly hastily maintained trench coat. Holding buttons along the side where it opens..some missing, most rusted. It’s a navy color-or at least was once-now being discolored, a dulled navy with some splotches of discolored brown..or, no on further look those are patches resewn into the coat..with leather. The collar holding one red pin on the left side..rusted like most of his gear. The sleeves seem to be always rolled up, revealing his bandaged arms..at least to the elbow. The shoulders seem to be torn, one of them replaced with small bits of metal, a sheet sewn in and shaped to the man’s size. It’s almost in tatters, but with more pieces of it being resewn and modified..maybe it looked entirely different long ago, who knows...who cares? The trenchcoat being held up and secured tightly with a belt around his waist. Said belt holding a medium sized rusted buckle of what seems to be a red star. In the middle being a very rusted and discolored hammer and sickle...maybe it used to be gold..a long while ago. Tying the entire thing together he wears a pair of steel-toed boots. Lace ups with the steel toe being visible..mostly from the black leather on the boots being worn to shit.


Background:The life of this man is a small enigma..mostly to himself. Sazeal Poltanov was just a normal Russian man living in the Soviet Union during his life, a man of the military by choice he always did what was asked of him, never disobeying an order. When the time came and he rose the ranks, he expected his men to do the same. During the time of the second world war he was called into action. After events that even himself can’t remember he was captured by the Nazi’s, tortured and killed by them before being thrown into a mass grave and set ablaze..to drown in the corpses of his men, of women, of children..all while his skin melted off. The sheer hatred he felt in that moment, being able to live that far just through his anger alone..made him catch the eye of Mortalis, once Sazeal was looked over, his actions, his deeds, how he was as a person. Mortalis sought it fitting to give him life once more..only to correct his mistakes. Sazeal awoke in that grave later on that night, having nothing on him..being resurrected as a revenant..although still plagued with burnt skin. As the winds made his every muscle and nerve writhe he moved to the shack where he was tortured..his things still being there..but the man at this point..truly lost. With his things in tow..he knew he couldn’t return to the USSR with his appearance, with his failure..being told by Mortalis that the only thing that would set him free from this curse..would be to find out /why/ he was cursed with it in the first place. What deed he did to deserve it..but sadly his memories clouded he still has not remembered. Now wandering the world in survival..and pursuit of knowledge. As a final bit of salt to add to the man’s charred wounds he was gifted with the ability to produce fire from his fingertips. Of course this is not a direct aid to the man, no..he’s only able to create small flames with one or two fingers, the intensity of such being tied directly to his emotions. The stronger his feelings..the stronger the flame


Birth magi: Sazeal’s Suffering:The ability to create small flames from his fingertips, only being able to make two at a time and their intensity being tied to his emotions.


Profession: None.


Level and experience: LVL: 1 EXP 

- STR: 8

- DEX:4

- PER:5

- VIT:6

- INT: 7

- EMO:7

- SAU:3


Inventory: Clothes: His usual attire and his coat...tattered, eugh. It probably looked good once.


Perks:

Human oppression: -1 VIT when getting hit by magic attacks. Lasts 1 round. 

Old wars: +1 PER, STR and DEX when using melee weaponry.

New concepts: -4 PER when using firearms. Keeps disadvantage of birth race.


Known skills:Power strike - By channelling all inner power to one's arms, a melee fighter can strike with all its might. This skill slows your speed, but increases your damage.

LVL 1 skill. Requires 5 STR. -1 DEX, +2 STR.


Skill slots: 1-LVL 1 Skill slot


Known spells: Fire blast - A basic firespell that allows the caster to launch a short but powerful blast of embers damage an enemy. It's launch works much like a blunderbuss, giving a wide and short range blast.

LVL 1 projectile spell.



Spell slots: 1-LVL 1 Spell slot